


Grand Romantic Gesture

by kisslicknipsuck



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, allusions to naughtiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisslicknipsuck/pseuds/kisslicknipsuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a phenomenal row, Severus gets it into his head that the only way to patch things up with Harry is to present him with a grand romantic gesture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grand Romantic Gesture

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's snape_potter First Time for Everything fest. 
> 
> I'm sorry there's no porn. There was going to be porn. But then I ran out of time. And inspiration. And I'm sorry…I'm disappointed in myself…orz

To say Severus was uncomfortable would be an understatement. He’d arranged the meeting with the reporter to be held in the home he shared with Harry, where he could sit in his favorite wingback chair by the fire, in the hopes that the familiar environment would make answering the woman’s probing questions easier. He found instead that being in his private living space was making it even more difficult. He felt the woman’s presence as a violation, and her questions as an offensive interrogation. They should’ve met somewhere else—somewhere impersonal. He could’ve created a better mask out in public where he’d have been on his guard anyway. Here in his own living room, though, he was less prepared for the reporter’s inquiries than he would’ve liked. 

"How did your relationship with Mr. Potter evolve from student-and-professor to that of a romance?" the woman, Angelica Ward, asked him as she leaned forward slightly in her chair across from Severus. 

He’d chosen her specifically for two reasons: firstly, the few articles of hers that Severus had read in the _Prophet_ were the least sensationalist—bordering on professional—he’d ever seen in the old rag; and secondly, she was a Slytherin, and Slytherins took care of their own. And while he had never taught her himself, he thought it still must mean something to her. One’s House usually did, even in adulthood. He didn’t exactly _trust_ her not to twist his words into something more tantalizing that would sell more papers, but he had higher hopes for her than he would have had for someone like Rita Skeeter. 

He shifted in his seat at the directness of the question, but otherwise showed no discomfort. In his head, he chose his words carefully before speaking. He wouldn’t be able to take back whatever he said, he knew, so he took his time crafting his response. 

"As a young man, I knew his mother quite well. We had grown up together. Having never known her for obvious reasons, Harry sought me out to ask after her. I obliged and our relationship grew from there."

Angelica scribbled a few notes on the parchment she had in front of her. Severus approved of her doing it by hand rather than utilizing one of those atrocious automatic quills. She took her time with it and Severus hoped that meant she was writing things down truthfully rather than embellishing it. 

"When did this first occur? And when would you say the two of you officially became a couple?" she asked, turning back to Severus with an interested crinkle in her brow. A few short strands of her mouse-brown hair hung down from her hairline, but otherwise all her wavy curls were held back from her face by a deep purple headband that matched her robes. He thought the color made her look a bit dull in comparison, but he kept it to himself. 

"Perhaps about a year after the war ended and I had fully recovered from my wounds." He started to reach towards his neck to touch the scars, but thought better of it and rested his hand back in his lap. Ward saw the movement, however, and made a note on her parchment. Severus tried not to scowl. He was probably failing. 

"And the legitimacy?" she prompted as if he’d forgotten. 

"Six months later, I would estimate."

She nodded, scribbled some more, and rubbed the side of her nose as she considered her next question. "Was there anything in particular that sparked the expansion of the relationship?"

Severus thought of that time in their relationship. Of the way he’d slowly come to notice certain little things about Harry when they spent time together, like the way he scratched the back of his head when he was nervous, or the many different ways he smiled depending on the circumstances. He thought of how he’d been surprised by how much he’d missed Harry’s company when he didn’t visit for a few weeks. He’d been having difficulties with his Auror training and needed some time to concentrate on his studies. He remembered all the mental and emotional upheaval he’d experienced when he’d realized how deeply he cared for the younger man and had thought it would be eternally unrequited. 

He wasn’t about to tell a practical stranger all that, however, and settled on something less intimate. "Sometimes Harry and I would speak whilst I was brewing potions, and one day he confided in me that he enjoyed watching me. He was very specific about what precisely he liked about it," Severus gave Angelica a significant look to emphasize the true meaning of his statement, which wasn’t exactly a lie, but neither was it the full truth. 

Angelica smirked at him. "Was there anything that brought _that_ on?"

"I couldn’t say," Severus said, shrugging. "You would have to ask Harry."

"Will I have a chance to do that?" she inquired without looking at him while she wrote. 

"It is unlikely. I don’t expect him back soon." In fact, Severus wasn’t expecting Harry back at all, which was the entire reason for this excruciating interview. 

Two weeks ago had been the anniversary of the Final Battle, for which there was an annual gala that the Ministry held to honor both the living and the dead. Naturally, Harry was invited to attend, and while he had no interest in galas and would’ve preferred to put the whole war behind him, he still went because he didn’t want to be disrespectful. 

This year, Harry had wanted Severus to go with him. Severus was also invited every year just as Harry was, but he had never gone before. He found the whole occasion to be gaudy and pretentious. And he was not keen on seeing any of the other attendees, either. With the exception of Harry, of course. Regardless, however, those were not the reasons he had refused to attend the gala with Harry—or without him, even. He simply didn’t want the attention. He was a very private man and didn’t appreciate being anywhere near the spotlight, let alone fully in it. He hated the reporters, and the photographers, and the speeches, and the _mingling_ —Merlin save him from ever having to _mingle_.

And if he had showed up as Harry Potter’s _lover_? It would have been a veritable cataclysm of unwanted attention. He couldn’t have handled it. He’d have cursed somebody, which would have led to pandemonium, and he’d have ended up in Azkaban before dawn. 

Harry hadn’t seemed to understand that, however, and had taken Severus’s refusal to join him as a personal offense. He thought Severus didn’t want to be seen with him because he was ashamed of their relationship. He thought he was Severus’s dirty little secret, which was patently ridiculous. He adored Harry as if the man had been the very one to invent the emotion. If anything, Severus ought to have been _Harry’s_ dirty little secret. 

Regardless, Harry had mistaken Severus’s motives and taken offense. They’d had quite the spectacular row on the matter, which had ended when Harry left the house in tears. He had not returned. The only word of him he’d had was a few hostile comments from Harry’s friends when he’d tried to make contact with him. 

Severus wasn’t sure how the whole thing had gotten so out of hand, but he suspected he himself had played a major role in it. He shouldn’t have been so caustic and disdainful when Harry brought the idea to him. He should have explained more clearly his reasons for not wanting to attend the gala. Perhaps he should have offered an alternative to their "coming out" as it were? He still didn’t see why it had to be such a grand occasion. All the people they cared about already knew, and Severus saw no reason why it should be anyone else’s business, but if it was what Harry wanted…

It was what he was going to get. Which was why Severus found himself giving an interview for the _Prophet_ on his relationship with Harry. He could think of nothing else to do. Harry would not speak to him, and he would not allow himself to be spoken to, so his only course of action appeared to be a grand romantic gesture. Personally, Severus found the whole thing to be intrusive and unpleasant, but if it got Harry to speak to him again, it would be worth it. He wasn’t one much for the absurdity of grand romantic gestures, but he supposed there was a first time for everything. He’d do whatever it took to get a chance at putting things right with Harry. 

"Pity," Angelica said, crossing her legs at the knee and making herself more comfortable. 

Severus grimaced ever-so-slightly as the woman settled herself in to begin the juicy part of the interview. 

\--

Harry stared in shock at the picture of himself and Severus nuzzling each other on the front page of a special edition of the _Daily Prophet_ with the headline, "SECRET LOVERS: The Clandestine Relationship of Severus Snape and Harry Potter" glaring at him. Ron had dropped it on his desk this morning with a harshly whispered, " _Have you_ seen _this?_ " in lieu of the tea he usually came bearing. He hadn’t, since he had given up trying to take the _Prophet_ seriously ages ago, and didn’t know what to say when he saw it. Neither did Ron, it would seem. 

Rather than commenting, Harry opened the paper to read the article. He felt a little sick to his stomach with worry of what he would find there. 

"Well, it’s not so bad, is it?" he said once he’d finished the article ten minutes later. "I mean, he’s pretty vague. And he didn’t tell them anything too sensitive. Right?"

Ron had spent the time he’d been reading pretending to be preoccupied by the mountains of paperwork of his desk adjacent to Harry’s. They didn’t warn you about all the paperwork you’d be filling out when you were in Auror training. Probably they’d get too many drop outs if they did. 

"Yeah, I guess, mate, but why did he do it in the first place? He must know you hate being in the papers," Ron said. "And I know you had a go at each other, but it isn’t like him to share his personal life with _anyone_ let alone the whole Wizarding world." 

Harry hadn’t told Ron and Hermione what specifically the two of them had fought over, only that they’d fought, and it had been monumental. He hadn’t felt comfortable discussing it just yet, mostly because as soon as he’d stormed out of their house that night he’d started to think that maybe he’d overreacted and he wasn’t looking forward to Hermione unsympathetically telling him so. 

Harry nodded to acknowledge Ron’s point. Severus _wasn’t_ the kind of man to parade his private life around town like this, but considering the fight they’d had a couple weeks ago, and the fact that Harry hadn’t spoken to him since, he reckoned this was Severus’s way of winkling him out of hiding while simultaneously apologizing. And Harry had no doubt that that was what he was attempting to do—apologize. While Harry may not have always been terribly good at interpreting Severus’s generally subtle behaviors, this was anything but subtle, and Harry wasn’t stupid. He tried not to be too chuffed that Severus would stoop to what he must consider an atrociously obvious course of action for his sole benefit. They still had a lot to work through, but Harry felt his lips curling into a soft smile all the same. 

"What do you think, Harry?" Ron asked, bringing Harry out of his thoughts. 

He sighed. "I think I should go talk to him," he said, still smiling, but his stomach also tying into knots at the prospect of the conversation. 

\--

Severus looked up from the simmering pot of chicken and dumplings when he felt the wards shiver. _Harry_ , he thought with a simultaneous thrill in his chest and twist in his gut. It seemed he wanted to give Severus some warning of his arrival before simply appearing before him; he could have just Apparated into the house. He might have preferred if he had. He’d been on high alert ever since he’d received his copy of the _Prophet_ that morning. Waiting for Harry’s reaction had been the most nerve-wracking thing he’d had to endure since watching Charity Burbage be killed while she begged for his help—though hopefully this would end less tragically. 

He hadn’t slept much the night before, and hadn’t been able to focus his attention on anything to get his mind off it all day. He’d bollocksed up four attempts at an Everlasting Elixir before he’d given up and settled into pacing the empty house, and finally preparing a meal, while he waited. He was ready to get the whole ordeal over with. Even if it didn’t go as he’d planned, he still wanted it to be over. 

He forced himself to stir the pot calmly when he heard the front door open. Harry’s steps were thunderous in the otherwise silent house. The other man stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. Severus didn’t turn around to look at him. He just continued to stir and said placidly over his shoulder, "If you’re hungry, I made chicken and dumplings. It will be finished shortly." 

"Have you seen today’s paper?" Harry asked, ignoring his offer. 

"You know I read it every morning with my tea," Severus responded. He pulled the wooden stirring spoon out of the pot and placed it on the counter beside the stove so he could remove the pot from the heat. 

"So you saw the unexpected little article about us on the front cover, did you?"

Severus finally turned around to face his lover. "It wasn’t unexpected to me," he said, meeting Harry’s gaze head on. It was more difficult than he’d anticipated. 

"Well, it wouldn’t be, would it?" Harry said, frowning slightly and crossing his arms in front of himself. It was a posture Severus recognized from their original row and it made him tense all over. He needed to think of some way to steer them towards a resolution, not another fight. Unfortunately, Severus was largely better at fighting—as was Harry. 

Severus bowed his head with his eyes closed and took a deep breath to calm himself. "Are you angry about the article?" he asked, straightening up again. "If so, please know that upsetting you further was not my intention." He had thought his intention was obvious, but perhaps he’d been wrong. 

Harry deflated. "No, I’m not angry about it. And I know why you did it. You wanted to prove to me that you’re not ashamed of our relationship." He rubbed his face with his hands. "I don’t even know why I’m still upset."

"I suspect it’s because I was disagreeable without adequately explaining my motivations. And then instead of rectifying that immediately, I exacerbated the situation further by lashing out at you unjustly." He crossed the room swiftly and coaxed Harry into allowing him to take both of his hands in his. "And for that I am sorry," he said quietly, willing Harry to accept. 

"You don’t have to apologize, Severus," he said, shaking his head and stepping forward to lean his forehead against Severus’s shoulder. "I know you don’t like attention; I should never have asked you go to the gala in the first place. And I shouldn’t have deliberately misconstrued your reasoning. Or refuse to admit that I’d overreacted. _I’m_ sorry."

Severus let go of Harry’s hands so he could put his arms around him and pull him closer. "I believe we were both out of line," he said. 

And suddenly they were hugging, and everything was headed towards being all right, and Severus could hardly believe how easy that had been. He’d have to keep in mind how useful grand romantic gestures could be for future reference. 

They stood quietly in each other’s embrace for a few moments before Harry broke the silence to whisper in Severus’s ear. "I don’t suppose you made any mashed potatoes to go with the dumplings?"

Severus smiled against Harry’s neck and pulled away slightly to look at him. "Of course I did. I’m hardly liable to forget how you prefer your favorite meal after only two weeks apart." 

Harry grinned and leaned forward to press a kiss to Severus’s lips, which he accepted wholeheartedly. "How did I survive without for so long?" he asked as he pulled Severus by the hand to the small dining table by the window. It was already set for two and a quick flick of Harry’s wand had the pot of chicken and dumplings floating over as well. The potatoes were already on the table. 

They sat down across from each other and Severus served them both generous portions—Harry’s perhaps a bit more so than his own. He watched Harry eat for moment, savoring the victory of being back in his lover’s good graces, or near enough, at least. Harry always ate like he’d never seen food before, devouring it in almost-too-large bites that would’ve disgusted Severus had Harry been anyone else. He sometimes wondered if he ate like that because of the food deprivation he’d sometimes suffered as a child growing up or simply because he was a Gryffindor. He wasn’t sure it mattered. The familiar sight made Severus feel a terrible fondness for him. He smiled to himself and picked up his fork to begin eating. 

"How was the interview?" Harry asked after they’d eaten in companionable silence for a few minutes. "Was Angelica Ward as overzealous as Rita Skeeter?"

"Not at all," Severus said after wiping his mouth with a napkin. "She was quite professional. It was not as uncongenial as I’d predicted." Although he still hadn’t enjoyed it in the least. 

"I hope it wasn’t too awful for you. I know you don’t like being questioned, especially by strangers, and especially about private things. I can still hardly believe you did it voluntarily." Harry gazed at him with the same deep fondness that Severus had felt for him whilst watching him eat. 

"There’s a first time for everything," he said nonchalantly, but continued more softly. "And it was made easier by being for you."

Harry flushed and tried to hide his pleased smile behind his glass of pumpkin juice. Severus didn’t flatter him often, so when he did, Harry couldn’t help but preen. 

Severus gave him a sly smile and continued, "Besides, she was more interested in you than me, and I could talk about you all day and night if I so desired. Sometimes it was all I could do not tell her the truth of your captivating charm." 

Harry snorted at that and laughed. "Well, you did a very good job of it. Your answers to some of her questions were so formal they must sound scripted and unbelievable to other people."

Severus feigned affront, looking down his nose at Harry stiffly. "I couldn’t possibly fathom what you mean."

Harry was grinning like mad, his food forgotten. He’d missed this—the playful back-and-forth Severus seemed to only do with him. "My favorite part was when she asked you about the first time we said we loved each other, and you said—" Harry paused to summon the periodical so he could read the quote verbatim, "'The night in question was our second anniversary. Harry had petitioned the evening off from his employers at the Ministry, whereas I—being self-employed—allowed myself the indulgence. We made a meal for each other, which we never ultimately consumed due to distractions leading to a more intimate encounter, after which the prescribed words were uttered.'" By the time Harry finished reading the quote aloud, he was struggling so hard not to burst out laughing that his eyes had filled with tears of mirth. 

"And what precisely would you have had me say instead?" Severus asked, sniffing indignantly despite the fact that he was just as amused as Harry. "Should I have told her that we’d both skived off work to fail at cooking a romantic dinner because we were too busy fucking?" 

Harry sobered a touch at Severus’s use of profanity, as he’d known he would. Harry liked it when he cursed. 

"Would that have been so bad?" Harry asked, watching Severus with a highly focused gaze. 

"It would have been improper," he answered, knowing how much Harry loved it when Severus was improper. It was why he liked it when he was profane. 

"And you don’t have much experience with being improper, do you?" Harry tilted his head to the side and leaned forward in his seat. He’d gone very still with his hands flat on the table in front of him as if he was preparing to push up from it and launch himself across at Severus. He didn’t think he would mind much if he did. 

"I wouldn’t say I don’t have experience. Only that I’ve been out of practice since you’ve been gone," Severus purred. A thrill went through him when Harry’s eyes darkened at his words. 

"Perhaps we should go upstairs and get some practice then, hm?" Harry suggested, licking his lips. 

Severus smirked. "If you insist."

Grinning, Harry got up from his seat to glide around the table and take Severus by the hand, leading him towards the stairs and their bedroom. Severus could tell by the eagerness of Harry’s stride that the night would be a long one filled with rekindling passions and unrestrained ardor. It would not be their first, and Severus had hope that neither would it be their last.


End file.
